


Better than New

by schwertlilie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Abuse of the Drift, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, M/M, Sibling Incest, The Drift (Pacific Rim)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwertlilie/pseuds/schwertlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matthew and Alfred are twin Jaeger pilots, with one of the strongest Drifts in the Seattle Shatterdome.. at least until they get drunk and do things Matthew would rather not remember. Now Matthew's holding back and it's interfering with their piloting, so after their latest battle Marshal Laurinaitis leaves them in the Jaeger to sort themselves out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better than New

**Author's Note:**

> (Or, schwertlilie wanted to play with the Drift and memory.)
> 
> For the uninitiated, Jaegers (giant robots) are piloted by 2+ people working together with a neural bridge. Pilots can read the surface level of each other's thoughts and emotions - ["What if we-" "And then we-" " _Yes_ "](http://travisbeacham.tumblr.com/) \- but they can't read everything. The closer the bond and the more trust between the pilots, the faster the connection and the better they can fight. 
> 
> Content/trigger warnings in the end note. 
> 
> This fic makes extensive use of blockquotes. If there's better way to code this for screenreaders, let me know and I'll do my best to fix it!

As far as category iii Kaiju go, Snapper isn't that bad - half an hour at the ten mile line, and Sierra Hurricane has pummelled it into a pile of cauterized goo. The turtle-shaped Kaiju had been slow, and even when it had bitten into the thermal knife Sierra had had her back-up dark matter generator - they'd shot its head to pieces.

It's also the worst fight Matthew and Alfred have ever had, even worse than the shitshow that was their first deployment when they fell out of sync and Arthur and Francis had come to their rescue, Alfred blaming everything and everyone except himself for the near-death experience.

Well, Alfred's gotten better about that since then. Mostly. Matthew isn't looking forward to the debrief tonight.

"What's up with you two?" Eduard's voice is a little staticy, but not so much that Matthew can't hear the confusion. "Snapper should only have taken you fifteen minutes."

"Nothing's wrong," Matthew says. (He ignores the abortive _liar_ from Alfred.)

Eduard clears his throat. "Your neural handshake is the worst I've ever seen it, and your movements were eighteen percent slower than average. Anything we need to know about?"

"No," Alfred says. "Nothing for open comm channels, anyway."

A pause, then: "You have fifteen minutes before the transports arrive," Marshall Laurinaitis says with quiet disapproval. "We're turning off the comms until Sierra moves or the transports reach hailing distance, whichever comes first. Sort it out."

And the marshall is as good as his word, because with a pop of static an error message appears on the heads-up displays, and Sierra's AI says "Signal lost."

Matthew counts five, ten, sixty in his head before Alfred sighs and says "I hate it when Toris sounds disappointed in me. It's like"

> father frowning down at you, toy plane in his hand

"I'm five years old and getting lectured by the old man, you know?"

Ignoring Alfred's memories, Matthew shrugs, a small enough movement that Sierra didn't shift. "I don't know, actually. You're the one he took when he left."

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't." He doesn't want this conversation, doesn't want any of it, not since two nights ago when everything went to hell.

"Stop bullshitting me. You've gotten enough of my second-hand memories that you know _exactly_ what I mean."

Matthew doesn't respond, goes back to counting _one, two, three_ as he watches the radar screen. The helicopters couldn't arrive fast enough for his taste.

Alfred sighs dramatically. "Silent treatment, huh?"

"I refuse to have this conversation in a Jaeger."

"I never said what conversation we were having, and even then I bet you'll refuse to have this conversation when we get back to base, and when we go to our bunks, and when we're next deployed, and then we'll be dead and Victoria or Portland will be scrap because you wouldn't get your head far enough out of your ass to _fix this_."

"There are other Jaegers."

"Not like us, not-"

And oh, that sends a pang of _loss pain fear_ through Matthew, fast and strong enough that he can't keep it out of the Drift.

"... Matt?" Alfred asks quietly, his own presence calming from anger to worry, and it makes Matthew shut down more. "Matt, what'd I say?"

He ignores the blinking red light on his display, the one that says the handshake is weakening, and shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

He can feel Alfred looking at him, the doubled visuals something else to ignore in the Drift along with Alfred's background music and random memories of training. _then we won't talk_ , Alfred says through the link.

Matthew sends _rejection-negation_ , and Alfred sends _amused just-watch-me_ in return. That's all the warning Matthew gets before Alfred is deliberately calling memories, calling

> "We're the best, Matt." He feels the smile stretch his face. "How much better will this make us?"

and pushing it through the Drift.

_what the fuck_

_let me in_ , Alfred says.

Matthew shakes his head, the tubing adding just a little tug at the end of his movements. "No," he says firmly, his mind back on _eight-nine-ten_ as an anchor in the here-and-now, away from his own memories of words and skin and sweat.

> He knows he's drunk, and he knows Matt's drunk too - his brother only ever giggled with three glasses whiskey in him - and he doesn't stop himself from asking for what he wants. They're safe in their room, sitting on Matthew's bunk, no one will hear if he gets turned down. "We're good in a spar, and we're good in a mech - how good can we be when we're in bed? And not just in terms of orgasms, 'cause let me tell you, I'm awesome at that, but in terms of how much better we'd be in a Jaeger if we know that much more about each other?"

_eleven-twelve-thirteen-_

> Matt raises an eyebrow but doesn't do anything else. Matthew would do something or say something if his brother wasn't interested - like last week when he'd wanted to egg Arthur's windows - but Matthew was still. So he leans across the short gap between them to kiss Matthew's lips. He misses and kisses Matthew's cheek instead, but Matthew is turning, Matthew's mouth is open and warm and _there_ , oh _god_ they were kissing and it was a horrible angle and it was everything he'd been beating off to for _years_.

_fourteen-fifteen-_ Matt can remember how that kiss had felt from his end. He can remember how Alfred had straddled his thighs, and he really wishes he didn't remember because- "It was a mistake," he says quietly.

Alfred lets up on the memories. "Why?"

"You know why."

"Actually, I don't. You never said no." _you're the one who pulled me on top of you_

> He can feel the shift of Matthew's muscles when his brother twists sideways, puts them a little closer to lying straight on the bunk. There's not a lot of room, but that's fine because Matthew's hands are in his hair and holding him close, and there's no danger he'll hit his head on the upper bunk while he's busy touching Matthew's skin. He moves to nuzzle the corner of Matthew's jaw, and a little tug on Matthew's ear makes his brother groan, makes his own dick twitch in his pants because-

_felt good_ escapes from Matthew's mind.

A little bit of _told-you-so_ and _triumph_ from Alfred's side of the Drift. His brother doubles down, strengthening the visceral, gut-deep memories of

> Want. He _wants_ his brother, and as if by ghost-Drift Matthew rolls his hips up against him, just a little, just a start. Matthew's eyes go wide; he almost thinks his brother is embarrassed, but Matthew deliberately grabs his ass and his brother rocks up again.
> 
> "Matthew-" he says, and oh god he can feel his brother's hard-on with every grind, every twist of Matthew's hips. It's amazing and terrifying all at once, because he'd _hoped_ for so long, and now Matthew is keeping eye contact while pulling him down, into Matthew's rhythm. He tries not to rush but he can smell and taste and touch and Matthew's turning insistent too-

Matthew tries to hold in

> Alfred looking down at him like he's the best thing that's ever happened to his brother

but he can't and Alfred chases that thought back into Matthew's mind, spills Matthew open into the Drift so that-

> Their sweatpants are chafing against Matthew's/Alfred's skin, and they should do something about it, but that would mean stopping Alfred's/Matthew's grinding and they don't want to stop when everything else feels so good. He/Matthew wants to keep hearing the little sounds Alfred is making; he/Alfred wants to keep watching Matthew watching him and the little flickers of emotion he/Alfred can see in Matthew's expression.
> 
> He/Alfred presses his whole body against Matthew as he comes messy in his pants; Alfred's orgasm takes him/Matthew by surprise but it's a good surprise, because Alfred says Matthew's name like it's a prayer and Matthew won't forget it. When he gets his breath back Alfred pushes himself a little to the side so that Matthew isn't grinding directly against his over-sensitive dick anymore; Matthew appreciates the way Alfred loops a leg between Matthew's own, against Matthew's crotch so that he can finish himself off. Matthew is close, so close, and Alfred loves the way Matthew tightens his hand in Alfred's hair on orgasm only to let go and stroke Alfred gently in the come-down.
> 
> Matthew/Alfred doesn't know what to say, so they don't say anything. Their brother doesn't hate them. They might even lo-

Alfred pulled himself out of the memory and shuddered hard enough to shake the joists attached to his arms. "You do- You do care."

"Of course." Alfred knows everything, now, so there's no point in fronting. "I wouldn't have stuck around through the Jaeger academy if I didn't."

"It's not the-" Alfred shakes his head. _not what I meant_

_I know_ Matthew thinks back. _and it's not right, **brothers**_

_fuck everyone else's opinions_

_not that easy_

_can be_ Alfred pushes the second-hand memories back to Matthew, makes Matthew finish the thought:

> Alfred doesn't hate him. Alfred might even love him, and wouldn't that be fantastic?

_both want_ Alfred thinks.

And damn it all, Matthew does want Alfred; he shakes his head. _I'd want more than a quick fuck_

_so do i_ Alfred twists in the harness. _let me try_

_trouble_

_then we'll deal with it_ "How about this?" Alfred whispers aloud. "We'll start small." The words have a weight to them that impressions and memories can't match. "If that doesn't work, then it doesn't work. But if nothing bad happens, then we can see where it goes. Okay?"

A blue light flashed on the console, and Sierra's AI intoned "Connection incoming."

Eduard's voice crackled over the comms. "Your ride's two minutes out. You two all right?"

Fuck it all. Alfred's looking at him patiently, like this really matters to him (and Matthew can _feel_ how much it matters to his brother; how many people can Matthew know for sure felt the same way he does?).

_not gonna run out when things get tough_ Alfred thinks. _promise_

Matthew let himself smile, just a little bit. "We're okay."

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings for: consensual drunk sex that Matthew regrets afterward, non-consensual use of the Drift to find out Matthew's true feelings and reasons for regret via inundating Matthew with memories of said drunk sex. Matthew doesn't want to let himself want a relationship with Alfred, and Alfred is insistent that it's a good idea. If you missed it in the tags, sibling incest.


End file.
